


The Comfort Of Coffee

by the_technicolor_whiscash



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, coffee shop AU, the main character works at a library
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 12:05:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10763919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_technicolor_whiscash/pseuds/the_technicolor_whiscash
Summary: I basically wrote this because I was feeling sad and thought, "You know what? Connor Kenway would never treat me like this."Just a little short thing where Connor comforts the main character with coffee.





	The Comfort Of Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Yes this is essentially self insert but that doesn't really matter does it

I sat at my usual table in my favorite cafe, staring at my phone with disdain. My mother had once again completely shattered my trust, and I was trying to think of a way to deal with it. Text her back angrily? Explain calmly why I was upset? Or continue sitting there and slowly start to cry. I ended up crying. I didn't really mean to, but that was what my brain decided to do. Luckily, I was at a table in the back, so no one could see me suddenly break into tears. Or so I thought.   
One of the baristas walked over. He was a tall guy, built like a tree, and was definitely one of the most attractive men I had ever seen. His expression was that of concern.   
“Pardon me, miss.” He said. “Are you alright?”  
I nodded. “I'm fine. Just a family argument. Not a huge deal. It was just really sudden, that's all.”   
“I understand.” Then, he seemed to get an idea. “Wait here.”   
I watched as he went back behind the counter and whipped up a drink. His hands moved nimbly, and before long he was back in front of my table with a coffee.   
“Mocha latte. On the house.” He said, handing me the drink.   
“Thank you…” I looked at his nametag. “Connor.”  
He smiled. “It was the least I could do.”  
“My name’s Emma, by the way.” I said. “I work down the street, at the library.”  
“I will have to stop by there sometime, then.” 

A few days later, I was sitting behind the reception desk at the library, silently doodling away in my notebook. It was a weekday, so there wasn't many people coming in. Suddenly, I heard the sliding doors open, revealing none other than Connor, the kind, attractive barista.   
“I was hoping I would find you here.” He said.   
I smiled and closed my notebook. “It’s good to see you again.”   
“I wanted to ask you…” He paused, starting to blush. “Would you want to go to dinner with me sometime? I know we have only just met, but I would like to get to know you better. If that's ok with you.”   
“I would love to.” I ripped out a piece of paper and wrote down my phone number. “Here's my number. Text me, and we can plan it out.”   
He nodded, seeming relieved that his asking had worked. “I will.” He looked around the library. “You know, I've never actually been into this library. I don't have a library card, either.”  
“Want me to show you around? I know almost everything there is to know about this place.”   
He nodded. “That sounds excellent.”

**Author's Note:**

> Writing is therapeutic sometimes


End file.
